


Hands

by thunderstorm (ConsultingTimelordWizard)



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-17 05:44:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15454626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConsultingTimelordWizard/pseuds/thunderstorm
Summary: When Rose Tyler first meets the Doctor, her primary thought is that his hands are far too calloused for such a gentle touch.





	Hands

**Author's Note:**

> events mentioned through season one of the reboot are mentioned out of order and may not be entirely accurate--i'm rewatching the show but i had to get this posted!

When Rose Tyler first meets the Doctor, her primary thought is that his hands are far too calloused for such a gentle touch.

Her second thought is to actually follow the strange man’s instructions and run like hell before a mannequin of all things offs her for good. The only comfort she takes in her possible death (and every near-death situation she faces afterward, which is far above what could be considered an acceptable amount) is that she’d have her father waiting for her on the other side, though Rose predicts that even death wouldn’t mute her mother’s mouth if she let that happen. His hold on her hand is firm and sure as he leads her away from--and eventually blows up--her job, and Rose is sure she would have been far more panicked if he hadn’t been holding her frankly sweaty hand.

“Forget about me,” he says, as if Rose could ever forget the man who had saved her life, and Rose goes home still feeling phantom callouses against her palm.

Holding the Doctor’s hand, Rose finds out later, is the most natural thing in the world. She hardly knows him at first, yet tearing down the streets toward the London Eye while holding onto the (literal) alien man  is as effortless as breathing. At first she thinks the touches are a one-adventure-only kind of comfort that the Doctor offers his companions, but then he grabs her hand when they step into Cardiff, 1869, nor does he pull away from her grasp as they watch the Sun slowly engulf Earth into oblivion, and as they dance in the middle of the TARDIS with Jack Harkness laughing and insisting on having Rose’s next dance she realizes that the Doctor’s touches feel so natural because  _ being _ with the Doctor is natural. He’s brash and rude and unbelievably kind, and Rose knows she couldn’t leave his side even if she wanted to.

Not all days are good, though, and not every adventure has a happy ending. They can’t always save the day, she learns, and they unfairly take their anger out on one another. Shouting is almost as common as laughing while the TARDIS is idle, and it becomes a match as to whether the stubborn traveler or equally as stubborn companion will give in and be the adult this time.

(Usually they take turns.)

“How can you touch me?” he asks after they encounter the Daleks for the first time. He lay under the console in the control room hours after Rose originally tried to spare the Dalek and the Doctor had let his emotions go onto her once they were safe inside of the TARDIS. She didn’t take it personally and left him to cool down for a few hours before they talked it out.

“Simple really,” she says in response, sitting beside his legs and pulling her knees to her chest. The Doctor hesitates for a moment as she settles at his side, silence filling the console room. Rose tries not to pay it any mind. “You’re like a grumpy teddy bear.’

“I don’t know how to respond to that,” he says, and Rose can hear the frown in his voice. “You know what I did in the war, Rose. You know the blood on my hands.  _ I pointed a gun at you _ . Why haven’t you asked to go home yet?”

Rose sighs and places a hand on his knee. “Doctor, please look at me.” It takes a few nudges from her and a spark from the TARDIS to get the Doctor out from under the console, and Rose uses her free hand to make him actually look at her instead of pointedly at the wall. His clear blue eyes seem to search for something she isn’t aware of, but she ignores the feeling and presses on.

“I haven’t asked to go home yet because I’m already home, you daft man.”

The Doctor’s mouth forms an ‘O’ in obvious shock; whatever he’d been expecting to hear, it wasn’t that. “Rose--”

“No, listen to me.” The hand she has on his cheek moves to press a finger to his lips, effectively silencing him. “I know what you did, Doctor, but I’m not going to run away from you because of it. You were in a war, for Christ’s sake! You did what you had to do.”

“This isn’t like forgetting to file your taxes, Rose. What I did in that war cost millions of lives outside of my own species. I’m… I’m a murderer, Rose. How can’t you see that?”

The Doctor meets her eyes, and the pain behind them breaks her heart. She tries to put herself into his shoes, to imagine herself as the last human, and her mind flashes back to the viewing platform they’d been on to watch Earth’s end. The loneliness sweeps over her like a tidal wave, and Rose’s grip on the Doctor’s knee tightens.

“I’m still here because I know you,” she finally whispers. “You can’t take those deaths back, but that doesn’t equate you to a bad person to me.”

“Why’s that?” he asks, as if he can’t believe what she’s saying. She shifts so that rather than just her head angled his way her entire body is facing him, drawing his undivided attention.

“Because you said never again. You vowed to not take another life unless you’re given no other option, and you stuck with that since the night of the living plastic.” That draws a laugh out of the Doctor, and Rose grins widely at her small feat.

“You always seem to know just what to say,” the Doctor says, casually rubbing at his cheek to wipe away the tear trail there. Rose’s only acknowledgement is taking his face in both of her hands and running her thumbs across his cheeks, wiping away whatever tears he missed.

“It’s because I mean every word I say,” she says. “You’re my home, Doctor, wherever you go. You’ve done so much for me, and if taking my hand eases your burdens a little bit, you’ll find it there always. I’ll never leave so long as you’ll have me.”

Years later, Jack will be under the impression that the Doctor and Rose shared their first kiss when the Doctor took the Time Vortex from her mind and saved her from dying like so many times before. He would be wrong, however; their first kiss happens that night in the console room, neither one of them quite knowing who initiated the kiss but both reverently, finally, giving into their long bottled up emotions.

His hands are no longer as calloused and rough, in his new body. His leather jacket and jumper hand loose on his now-lanky frame, and a full head of hair replaces the buzzed, nearly bald cut he sported moments before. He’s younger, but the grip he gives her hand when she reaches out to him is firm and familiar, much like the goofy smile he seems to reserve for her and the eyes that are just as filled with love as the man she had lost.

“Rose Tyler,” he says, voice caressing her name like a prayer.

“Doctor,” she replies, and together they go off on their next adventure, hand-in-hand.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr: http://sleepy-college-student.tumblr.com


End file.
